Paris Fashion Week: Hussein Chalayan spring/summer 2012

The mind-boggled at Hussein Chalayan's abstract show.

BY Luke Leitch |
30 September 2011

Hussein Chalayan spring/summer 2012 Photo: AFP

Hussein Chalayan spring/summer 2012 Photo: AP

"It was supposed to be abstract," said Hussein Chalayan. And it was: very. In a nutshell this show - held in a bombed-out back room of a deserted bank - saw the models troop out from behind a screen towards a white table covered with champagne flutes. These flutes were placed by two cowl-wearing ninjas - "they've been there for the last two seasons, they're absent/present in a way" - upon a silver tray and handed to Chalayan, dressed as a waiter, who then gave them to certain models. Those models then retreated to the screen at the back of the stage, upon which were projected circular images I think generated by cameras hidden at the base of the glasses (although I was getting a bit lost by this time). They then pretended to look at the images, while other, non-champagne meriting models looped around them to a choral soundtrack and the odd twanging harpsichord. Three or four different three-strong groups of models got the champagne treatment.

Worse, it almost entirely distracted - along with a truly remarkable odour emanating from the gentleman next to me - from the clothes. Happily, however, not entirely. For they were crisp, undulating, and sometimes very beautiful. They began black, blush, white, grey and minimalist, then segued into lemon and apricot, and afterwards went into a mottled print too distant to see properly. Then Chalayan slipped from minimal into a gear almost as conceptual as his show production; space age reflective mini shorts with that possibly-floral print top and a white cape, long print dresses that never ended, instead looping up at the back into attached floppy sun hats, and then a fetching welder's mask or two attached to white gauze headpieces.

This was a show as loopy as those integrated-sunhat dresses, a performance designed for the shallow to interpret as deep. "Some of you may have got it," said Chalayan afterwards, "and some of you may not." Sigh.

Still at least his clothes - like the last pretend-champagne-drinker's outfit, a black leather dress with wide, white-stitched panels in the chest revealing crafted flower detailing - are interesting.